


The Problem with Pink Hair

by undying_lilies



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Gen, Pink hair, Supportive Webby, Webby being the best sister she can be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undying_lilies/pseuds/undying_lilies
Summary: Being pranked by his brothers leaves Huey with pink bangs, and he's forced to go on errands with his new hair (and Webby).
Relationships: Huey Duck & Webby Vanderquack
Kudos: 34





	The Problem with Pink Hair

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what this is but it was fun to write nevertheless XD I hope you enjoy!

Huey didn’t know what thought had crossed his brothers’ minds to make him deserve what he’d gone through that day. (Though he did have to admit that the day had gotten better as it went on.) All _he_ knew was that after he’d taken his morning shower, drying his hair as best he could, he looked up in the mirror and saw that something was wrong.

Something terribly wrong.

Something _so_ wrong that he screamed.

Immediately Della jumped into the bathroom, already in a fighting stance. “Are you all right, Huey?” she shouted, looking wildly around the room. “Did the kraken come out of the sink faucet? A selkie in the bathtub! Are you suddenly a vampire and can’t see your reflection?”

“No, seeing my reflection is the problem!” Huey cried.

Della finally set her gaze on Huey.

She made a noise that sounded in between a laugh and a cough.

For Huey’s hair somehow - after he’d taken his shower - had turned a vibrant shade of pink.

“Oh, um, son -” Della paused. “At least it’s not, you know . . . that one shade of green no one likes?”

“It’s _pink!”_ Huey wailed. “I have so many things on my to-do list today! And they all involve interaction and everyone’s going to make fun of me and -”

Della put her arms around Huey and patted his head. “If they make fun of you, so what? You rock that pink hair!”

“My hair looks like a piece of bubblegum,” Huey muttered.

“But -” Della grimaced before plastering a smile on her face. “Kids like you love bubblegum!”

Huey crossed his arms. _“I_ don’t like bubblegum.”

Della patted his head again. “Yeah, you get that from me,” she said darkly. Then she smiled - a genuine smile this time. “Don’t worry about your hair, Huey. I’ll help you find another hat or something to cover it if it really bothers you.”

“But I like my usual hat,” Huey whimpered.

Della ruffled Huey’s pink hair. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Worry about this after breakfast?”

“I guess so,” Huey said reluctantly.

So Huey quickly got dressed, and then he and Della left the bathroom and headed to the dining room. He tried to put his pink hair out of his mind, just for breakfast. Or maybe the whole day, if he was lucky. But thoughts of everyone making fun of him wormed its way into his mind, making him doubt everything he’d just thought.

Huey forced himself to take a deep breath and forget his hair.

But as soon as he entered the dining room, Louie and Dewey burst into laughter at the sight of their triplet.

Huey scowled as he took a seat across from them. “Really funny, guys.”

Even Scrooge hid a smile behind his newspaper. “Your hair suits you, lad,” he said matter-of-factly, starting to read the paper again.

Huey reached for a bowl of fruit to distract himself.

“You bet it does.” Dewey grinned from ear to ear. “You look positively a-dashing.” He added a funky little bow at the end.

“You probably did this, didn’t you?” Huey’s heart sank as irritation flamed up again. “I have so many things to do today - why didn’t you just do it to yourself?”

“Oh, come on!” Louie straightened from bending over from laughing so hard and grinned. “You look great.”

“So _was_ it you two?” Della asked, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. But before Louie and Dewey could respond, she frowned and put her fork down. “Boys, Huey has a busy day today outside of the mansion, not to mention you did it without Huey’s permission. What would your uncle Donald say?”

“He’d say something we can’t understand,” Dewey prompted.

Louie snickered.

Della’s frown deepened. “Be nice to Donald _and_ Huey’s hair. Both have nothing wrong with them.”

Huey silently thanked his mom.

Then Mrs. Beakley and Webby entered the dining room, carrying the rest of the breakfast - plates of steamy, just-fried pancakes.

Mrs. Beakley, almost about to put one of the plates on the table, paused when she saw Huey’s hair.

Then she smiled pleasantly. “Compliments on your hair, Huey,” she said, putting the plates of food down on the table.

“Yeah!” Webby put the toppings for the pancakes on the table, too, and sat right next to Huey. “Nice hair.”

Huey slumped down in his chair. “Thanks,” he sighed.

~

Ten o’clock that morning found Huey at the front door of the mansion, checking one of his lists to make sure he had everything for the day. Backpack? On his back. Junior Woodchuck Guidebook? Under his hat. Hat that covered his hair? No such luck; he’d have to live with pink hair for however long it took to wash out.

He folded the checklist and stuck it in the backpack on his back and put a hand on the doorknob. A sudden voice yelling “WAIT!” stopped him on his tracks, though, before he could leave.

He looked over his shoulder. It was only Webby, skidding to a halt before him.

She panted from running so fast to catch him. “Sor - sorry,” she said in between breaths. “But um -” She quickly composed herself. “I don’t have anything to do today - can I tag along? With you?”

Huey shrugged, secretly _very_ relieved that Webby wanted to come with. “Sure.”

“Yay!” Webby cheered, punching the air.

The two set off out of the mansion and down the driveway. A few minutes later, Webby turned to Huey. “What’s on your to-do list?”

Huey started counting off his fingers. “I have to return stuff to Violet and Gyro, there’s a JW bonfire tonight, I need a sunflower from the florist shop for an experiment . . .” He trailed off, then nodded confidently. “Those are the things I can name off the top of my -” He patted his hair awkwardly. “- pink hair.”

“Violet?” Webby grinned. “Let’s go there first!”

~

One ride from Launchpad later (who commented on Huey’s hair, much to the red-wearing duck’s attempts to hide it), Huey and Webby found themselves standing in front of Violet’s house, where Huey pressed the doorbell.

Moments later, an adult bird who resembled Violet entirely appeared in the doorway. “Good morning, kids!” he greeted.

“Hi, is Violet here?” Huey held up a book. “I need to return this to her.”

The bird shook his head. “She and Lena went to the park - something about practicing Violet’s ‘smack-talk’. I can take it for you.” He reached out a hand, but Huey held onto the book.

“No, I’ll give it to her,” Huey said.

“We wanted to see her, anyway,” Webby added.

The bird shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you later, then,” he said. “Nice hair, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Huey said dejectedly.

“Bye, Mr. Sabrewing!” Webby enthusiastically waved.

The door closed, and Huey and Webby turned around and headed to the park instead. The park turned out to be not very secluded with citizens of Duckburg that day - only a few joggers, walkers, and ducks sitting at the picnic benches, enjoying late breakfasts and early lunches.

Huey self-consciously tried to hide his hair.

“Why’re you hiding your hair?” Webby tilted her head.

Huey gave up covering his hair. “I dunno,” he admitted. “I don’t like it very much.”

“Well,” Webby declared brightly, “if anyone makes fun of it, then they’re getting their butts kicked in all the fighting styles known to duck!”

Huey let out a laugh. “Thanks, Webby.”

The two discovered Violet and Lena by one of the park’s many trees, Lena shouting happily at Violet while the latter punched the air and shouted something as well.

“Your spots look like a dalmation’s behind!” Violet announced, pointing to a ladybug crawling up the tree.

“Yes, good!” Lena shouted, pumping her fists into the air. “Now smack-talk something on that tree!”

“Such a shame you missed autumn, have a nice _fall!”_ Violet pointed to a falling leaf. Then she noticed Huey and Webby approaching and stuck her head into Webby’s. “And you’re so fashionably late that people call you a sloth!”

“Hi, Violet!” Webby grinned. “Nice smack-talk.”

“Webs!” Lena joined her friends, still in the shade of the tree. “And -” Her eyes set its gaze on Huey’s hair.

Huey tried to cover it with Violet’s book.

“My book!” Violet momentarily forgot her smack-talk and snatched her book from Huey’s hands, exposing his pink hair. “Thank you, Hubert.”

“Heh . . . don’t mention it,” Huey said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“- wow.” Lena blinked. “I thought that if anyone were to dye their hair, it’d be Bluey or whatever his name is.”

“Your hair reminds everyone of bubblegum stuck to the underside of tables!” Violet declared. Then her face fell and she composed herself. “I apologize. Lena was being my mentor in the art of smack-talk before you joined us.”

“I didn’t want to dye my hair, my brothers pranked me,” Huey muttered.

Lena nodded thoughtfully. “Nice prank.”

“No, not nice prank!” Huey snapped.

“Woah, don’t get touchy.” Lena put her hands up, then gestured to her own hair. “Hey, man, I have pink hair, too, if it makes you feel better. And hey,” she added, pointing to survive, “this is some quality sympathy you’re getting from _me.”_ She grinned.

“It’s not even lunch and I’m sick of my hair,” Huey said. “It’s just distracting.”

“It’s distracting in a good way,” Violet suggested. “I do hope you found my book on the different types of trees found in Asia interesting, by the way.”

“Yeah, it was.” Huey sighed. “Thanks for letting me read it.”

“My pleasure,” Violet said brightly.

Lena turned back to her purple-feathered friend. “Alright, ready to start smack-talking again?”

Violet saluted her. “Sir yes sir!”

“Smack-talk _my_ hair!”

As the two returned to smack-talking, Huey and Webby turned around and began walking out of the park, Webby with a bounce in her step and Huey with a drag to his feet.

“Lunch?” Webby suggested, noticing her friend’s glum mood.

“Lunch,” Huey said wearily.

~

After a nice lunch at a quaint café/bakery (who were all too happy to have a lunch rush, it seemed), the duo set off for their next destination - Gyro’s lab.

But when they approached the elevator, headed to the lab, they were stopped by a sign taped to the elevator buttons:

_Dr. Gearloose and his intern are not in office today. They’ll be back tomorrow. We apologize for any inconvenience._

“Ooooof _course.”_ Huey groaned. “This day can’t possibly get any more frustrating.”

“What’d you have to return to Gyro, anyway?” Webby asked.

Huey slipped off his backpack, dug around in it for a while, and then pulled out a familiar invention. “L’il Bulb.”

Webby cocked her head in confusion.

“I used him to help me read Violet’s book,” Huey explained, putting the dormant L’il Bulb back in his backpack. “And then Louie stole it, so I had to track it down.”

“Tracker badge?” Webby guessed.

Huey nodded. Then he shook his head to clear his mind. “Okay, how do we give L’il Bulb back, then? I don’t exactly trust anyone else to take care of it.”

“Let’s go ask Scrooge, then,” Webby suggested.

“Is he here?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to check.”

So instead of taking the elevator to the lab, the duo rode it all the way up to Scrooge’s office (which was so far up in the building that Huey was convinced the elevator ride took more than ten minutes), where they found their great-uncle just about to enter a meeting with, most likely, those three vultures that he always seemed to be meeting with.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Huey called, rushing to catch Scrooge before he left with Webby hot on his heels. “Uncle Scrooge, do you know where Gyro is?”

Scrooge glanced at Huey and Webby and then sighed with relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. “You two are a perfect distraction from those belligerent buzzards.” He gestured towards the almost-closed door. “What did you want?”

“Where’s Gyro?” Webby asked. “Huey needs to return something.”

Scrooge frowned. “Isn’t he in the lab?”

“There’s a sign by the elevator,” Huey said. “He’s not in his lab today.”

“And Fenton,” Webby added.

“Oh, that’s right.” Scrooge stroked his chin thoughtfully. “What did he say yesterday? Something about Gizmoduck in a construction site.” He waved them off. “Yes, that’s it. Now I need to return to my board meeting, lads. Probably something about how I spend ‘unnecessarily’.” And with a grumble, he disappeared into the meeting room.

“I guess we go to that construction site,” Huey said. He headed for the elevator with Webby at his side. “Everyone’s all over the place today, huh.”

“Makes today sort of an adventure,” Webby said brightly.

Moments later, the two exited the elevator. In the lobby of the Money Bin, several people commented on Huey’s hair, and Huey simply responded with a weak smile and a “thanks” before trying to hide his hair again.

They eventually found the construction site that Scrooge had mentioned - a simple construction site where sounds of lasers and things falling to the ground reached Huey and Webby’s ears as they entered the area.

Gyro stood off to the side, jotting things down on a clipboard while Gizmoduck practiced shooting bags of sand down with lasers. Gyro stopped writing, though, when he saw the duo approach.

He raised an eyebrow. “I see you’ve done something with your hair.”

Huey frustratingly tried to hide his pink hair with his hat. After failing to do so, he gave up and instead slid his backpack off, glanced in, and drew out L’il Bulb.

“One L’il Bulb,” he said, handing it to Gyro. “Would’ve given it to you sooner, but my brothers stole it from me and -”

Something sparked in his mind.

“- and they probably stole him to dye my hair.” Huey’s irritation flamed up again. “That’s. Just great.”

“Decently taken care of,” Gyro remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he looked his invention over.

“Robotics badge,” Huey said automatically. Then he added, “From the Junior Woodchucks.”

“Impressive.” Gyro switched L’il Bulb on and set it on his shoulder. “There aren’t many kids who know who to take care of robots that well.”

Huey grinned.

“Hey, what’s Gizmoduck doing?” Webby piped up, glancing in the superhero’s direction. “Practicing his fighting skills for future villains?”

“We _were_ running diagnostic tests to make sure the suit was in working order before you two interrupted,” Gyro muttered. Then he paused and shrugged. “Except I suppose you two _did_ have a good reason.”

Gizmoduck rolled over to the group, evidently done shooting lasers at various things. “Lasers are in working order,” he said confidently. Then he waved at the duo. “Hello, Webby, Huey! Your hair certainly is . . . uh, bubblegum-y today?”

“Thanks,” Huey mumbled.

“Back to tests,” Gyro ordered. “See you two la -”

Suddenly an alarm from one of the panels in Gizmoduck’s robotic arms pierced through the air, making everyone jump. Gizmoduck flipped open the panel and reported, “Beagle Boys at the Money Bin, sir.”

“Fine,” Gyro grumbled. “We’ll finish the tests tomorrow.” He waved him away.

Huey and Webby shared a look. Not a look of surprise - this kind of thing happened way too often for it to be surprising - but it was a look where they nodded knowingly.

“We’ll help,” Huey offered.

“Yeah!” Webby demonstrated a jump-kick in the air. “We’ll take the Beagle Boys down in no time!”

~

They did not take the Beagle Boys down in no time.

The villains had had a very thorough plan this time - one that Gizmoduck, Huey, and Webby still defeated, of course, but it was nearly sundown by the time the Beagle Boys admitted defeat and returned to the junkyard. (They all commented on Huey’s hair, much to Huey’s irritation and chagrin.)

With everyone out of breath and panting from the fight, Huey glanced at the clock and nearly shrieked. “I’m late!” he yelped. “And I haven’t done half the things on my to-do list -”

“Late for what?” Webby asked.

“For the Junior Woodchuck bonfire! If we’re lucky we’ll only be ten minutes late!”

So Huey hurried out of the Money Bin with Webby close at his heels. Except it took nearly twenty minutes for the duo to rush over to the Junior Woodchuck campsite, and Huey was almost at his wit’s end when they stopped before the entrance to the site.

He threw on his hat, sash, and Junior Woodchuck uniform and then turned to Webby, ready to ask her if she had her Junior Woodchuck uniform - only to remember that Webby was not, in fact, a Junior Woodchuck, and she was standing in her everyday clothes, looking helpless.

“Oh,” he said, starting to realize his mistake. “Um, you’re not - I forgot -”

“Huey!” Launchpad appeared behind Huey, who jumped but immediately relaxed when he saw who it was. “You almost missed s’mores! Come on -”

“Wait, Launchpad -” Huey paused. “Can Webby join us? I know she’s not a Junior Woodchuck, but -”

Launchpad grinned. “Sure!” Webby brightened as he put a JW hat on her head. “Welcome to the bonfire, Junior-Woodchuck-for-a-day!”

Webby beamed.

~

Even Huey’s Junior Woodchuck hat didn’t hide his pink hair, like he’d been hoping it would all day. So when he sat on one of the logs surrounding the campfire, many of his fellow Woodchucks said _something_ about his hair.

Huey simply forced a smile and didn’t say anything else. But with each compliment or tease he got, the more frustrated he became.

A few minutes passed, with Huey with his head in his hand and Webby excitedly talking to a JW next to her, until a familiar face appeared, holding two textbook-perfect s’mores. Huey glanced up to stare into the face of one of his closest friends.

“Hi, Huey!” Boyd greeted cheerily.

“Hi,” Huey said, miserable.

Boyd sat in between Huey and Webby, who noticed who had sat by her, and handed each of them a s’more. “I saved you two a s’more,” he said. “Everyone else already had a perfect s’more made on perfectly-cut s’more sticks.”

Of course they all had. This day was getting unluckier by the minute.

“Man, I love campfires.” Webby bit into her s’more. “The Junior Woodchucks are awesome.”

“We are!” Boyd chirped. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Boyd! A definitely real boy.”

“Hi, I’m Webby!” Webby grinned, shaking his hand.

“Oh, hey, Huey!” Boyd said, glancing at his friend’s hair. “You have pink hair! It’s very -”

“Augh!” Huey suddenly cried. “I can’t take it anymore!”

Boyd and Webby both paused.

“I never wanted -” He played with his pink bangs for a second. “- this! It’s Louie and Dewey’s fault, it was their fault, because why on earth would I dye my hair? And why pink?! And everyone talks about it and teases it and it’s just a Dewey thing, not a me thing -”

“Woah woah,” Webby said, gesturing to him to slow down. “Start over.”

“I just -” Huey glanced at the pink bangs framing his vision, and then he sighed. “It’s the hair,” he admitted. “Everyone says something about it and I didn’t expect it to happen at all, and -”

“ ‘A Junior Woodchuck is always prepared,’ ” Boyd recited, nodding.

“And everyone’s just so surprised.” His irritation started to crumble away, only to be replaced with pure exhaustion. “And everyone teases me -”

“No one _really_ teased you,” Webby began.

“Violet smack-talked my hair and Lena didn’t say anything -” Huey recounted.

“Because Lena was surprised _and_ she was teaching Violet how to _smack-talk_ and we happened to interrupt their lesson!”

“Gyro and Gizmoduck and my entire family were surprised -”

_“Everyone_ was surprised! Like Lena! Even me!”

“All of the Beagle Boys said something -”

“They were . . . just observing things?” Webby paused, then shook her head. “Huey, the point is everyone liked your hair! Everyone was just a little surprised at first. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all day - your hair is awesome, unexpected or not!”

“Yeah!” Boyd chimed in. “I was going to say that it was very nice.”

“But -” Huey hesitated. “But Lena teased me -”

“Lena teases everyone!” Webby looked a bit incredulous. “She has pink hair, too! Why would she make fun of pink bangs?”

Huey paused, the effect of his friends’ words setting in.

“You just need a little faith in yourself!” Webby encouraged.

“Your hair is awesome by me!” Boyd pointed to himself.

Huey stared into the crackling fire, thinking of what Webby and Boyd said and were saying. He’d let everyone’s comments get to him, all day, and he’d managed to convince himself that no one liked it and thought it looked funny.

But they did like it.

They were just a little surprised.

Like Webby had said.

Huey found himself smiling at the fire, and he turned back to Webby and Boyd, his smile becoming grateful.

Webby and Boyd smiled back.

“Thanks,” Huey said softly. He sat up a little straighter, glancing at his pink hair as best he could. And he realized that maybe pink hair wasn’t entirely the end of the world.

Boyd disappeared for a few minutes, returning with two more s’mores. “One more?”

“Boy,” Webby declared, as she and Huey each took one, “do I want ‘s’more’ of these s’mores.”

All three burst into laughter.

~

After that, Huey decided that he liked his pink hair. He didn’t try to hide it like he had done before, and instead he said, “Thanks!” cheerfully to anyone who complimented _or_ teased it.

Violet really did feel bad about smack-talking his hair in the park and she apologized. In return, they worked on a Junior Woodchuck project together. Even Lena announced that they were now twins and there was no way he’d ever get out of _being_ twins, Huey, so too bad.

And then, a week later, Louie and Dewey showed up to breakfast, both sporting new pink hair. Dewey insisted that he’d gotten it done and that it had been his idea. Louie just wore his hoodie’s hood all day and pretended it didn’t exist when someone asked about it.

But Scrooge caught Huey and Webby wink at each other knowingly, and he chuckled later about that in his office.


End file.
